Smoking Hipsters
by Ollene myile
Summary: When a raven-haired, anorexic, and passionate youth collides with a suave, berry-headed band member, their dysfunctional world is turned upside down. But what happens when Ichigo's dangerous past comes back up to bite them both?
1. Carmen

_Smoking Hipsters _

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Summary: Rukia is an anorexic nineteen year old who works at a vinyl record and bookstore in Karakura Town. When the new local band, _Smoking Hipsters_, is playing at an underground bar, Rukia decides to go. She sees Ichigo there: a hot, Supreme-wearing, guitar-playing, and smoking twenty year old that looks like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account. Things soon get very smokey, very fast.

Rating: M (for language, underage drinking, sex, drugs, you name it…)

Written By: Liym Enello

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"Hey, I'm looking for the Lizzy Grant record on vinyl." A customer asked the young cashier at the counter. Rukia raised her eyebrows at the customer over her first-edition copy of the novel _It's Kind of A Funny Story._ The man in front of the counter was your typical hipster. Mustache. V-Neck. Bowtie. Sweater Vest. Ugg man-sandals. He was holding a leather satchel and had a bored look in his eyes.

"You're looking for what?" Rukia asked, ignoring the man by training her eyes back on her book.

"The Lizzy Grant album. On vinyl."

"Have you checked the grunge-pop section?" She asks, popping the bubblemint pink gum in her mouth. It matched the color of her long, wavy pink hair. Rukia wore red lipstick, and a gray beanie hat to go with her outfit: vintage sweater, light wash cutoff shorts, patterned tights, and big black boots. She finally decided to put a bookmark –a picture of herself and her cat Kon, taken last Christmas—in her book. She sets it down and looks at the customer, condescendingly.

"Of course I looked there. You can't possibly be out of stock, can you?"

"Yeah, it's possible," Rukia rolls her eyes. "Lizzy Grant's going mainstream. I've got wannabes running in here like madmen waving around their parent's money to buy her old shit. Want her _Born To Die_ album instead?"

"Screw it; I'll just have to get it online."

"See you." Rukia gives the man a sarcastic peace sign as he leaves, pulling a hand-knit scarf around his neck.

Rukia sighed, and picked up her book again. There were only a few other people browsing the store, so she didn't need to pay much attention to them.

_Karakura Vinyl & Literature _was a semi-popular book and record store on the outskirts of Karakura Town. It was the basic hipster hotspot, with its vintage furniture, a mix of classic and modern literature, and a coffee narthex. They also sold CD's and records on vinyl. It was Hipster Heaven.

Eventually, when Rukia was half-way through her book and her shift had ended, she threw on her beaten denim jacket – with custom spikes on the shoulders, of course—and clocked out of the store, her leather backpack in tow. She closed up the shop, using a huge set of brass keys, and unlocked her bike from the bike rack next to the store. She took off downhill, heading for her apartment downtown. As she was speeding down the sidewalk, Rukia spotted a poster spewed against an old building's brick wall.

_**SMOKING HIPSTERS**__ PLAYING TONIGHT!_

_9:00 PM AT URAHARA'S BAR DOWNTOWN_

_FREE AS LONG AS YOU BUY A DRINK_

Rukia smirked. She had had a pretty boring day at _Karakura Vinyl & Lit_. She could use a drink. And a little dose of local music. Rukia took out her baby-blue iPhone while she was biking, and searched her contacts. She found Orihime Inoue's name, and clicked on it and selected FaceTime. Orihime Inoue picked up after the third ring, her face looked bright and upbeat. Her makeup was a smudged, and her long auburn hair –complete with bleached tips—looked like it hadn't been brushed in a while.

"Yo, Inoue." Rukia said, glancing up at the sidewalk to make sure she wouldn't run into anything while she biked.

"Heyyy, Ruk-kia!" Inoue slurred.

"Drunk already?" Rukia chuckled at her friend's failure to enunciate.

"Yup!" She chirped, and flipped her hair. She had set her iPhone down on her dresser, leaning against the mirror, so she could face Rukia and do her hair at the same time. Inoue gathered up her auburn locks into a messy bun – the best look to pull off when you're drunk—and tied a red bandana around her head.

"Wanna go to a local show at Urahara's bar tonight?" Rukia asked, abruptly coming to a halt at a stop light just before a van smashed her to smithereens.

"Buyyy me a d…drink?" Orihime said, and tried to fix her makeup by applying black eyeshadow all over it, trying to make it look like she did a bad job on purpose.

"Sure, Inoue. Meet me at my apartment in twenty?"

"Yeah, yeah." Inoue slurs, and applies some lavender lipstick on her plump lips.

"Don't drive, you'll kill yourself." Rukia says, and then ended the FaceTime. A few minutes later, Rukia arrived home, and parked her bike in her little separate garage. She entered the building, climbed a couple flights of stairs, and took out her huge set of brass keys to unlock the door to her apartment. She threw her leather-and-native-print backpack down onto the shabby 1970's floral couch in the far corner of the room, and stripped as she made her way to her bedroom. When she was flouncing around in only her underwear, Rukia stopped in front of the huge mirror that covered a whole wall, and looked at herself.

The bones on her hips stuck out, prominently, but Rukia still pulled at the skin around it, begging it to be tighter. She put her hands on her hips, and cringed at the small amount of fat there. She pulled at her skin, and tears almost sprang in her eyes. She turned away from the mirror, and regained her composure by taking deep, steadying breaths.

Rukia had drank a coffee this morning. If she didn't eat anything today, then she'll allow herself to have a few drinks tonight.

At that moment, Kon bounced into the room, his deep orange coat glimmering with the setting sun beating through Rukia's lace curtains.

"Hey, Kon." Rukia murmured dejectedly as she slipped on a lacy pink dress that was a just a few shades darker than her hair color. She switched her gray beanie for a light brown leather headband, and donned shimmery black tights and her signature black boots.

Kon meowed and jumped up on Rukia's quilted bed and licked his paw absentmindedly.

"You hungry, Kon?" Rukia asked her kitten, and scratched him behind the ears.

"_Meow!_"

"Yeah, at least you can eat." Rukia said begrudgingly. "You're a cat. It's hard for you to get fat." She entered her small kitchen and poured Kon some cat food in a bowl and set it down. Kon purred appreciatively and gobbled up his food.

Then there was a _buzz_ sound, and Orihime's voice—scratchy and static-y from the speakers—penetrated the silent air.

"Yo, Rukia, buzz me in."

Rukia pressed the button on the intercom. "Come on up." She presses another button, and waited for Orihime to arrive.

Rukia picked up a remote in the kitchen and turned on the stereo in the adjoined living room. The huge speakers emitted the soft sound of _Carmen_ by Lana Del Rey.

_Darlin', darlin'_

_Doesn't have a problem_

_Lyin' to herself_

_'Cause her liquor's top shelf_

Rukia grabbed her bag and threw in her iPhone, sunglasses, and her wallet. Then she grabbed her vintage Polaroid camera, and turned back to the wall-length mirror in her room and reapplied her makeup, opting for minimum eye makeup, just a light touch of lavender and some white shimmer on the corners of her eyes. She added a thin line of liquid eyeliner, and curled her lashes. She switched her deep red lipstick for a light shade of pink shimmer.

_It's alarming honestly_

_How charming she can be_

_Fooling everyone_

_Telling them she's having fun_

She chuckled to herself. The soundtrack to her fucking life. At that moment she heard Orihime barge into her apartment, stumbling the whole way.

"Rukiaaa!" She giggles.

"Hey, Orihime," Rukia emerges from her bedroom to welcome her friend. Orihime is dressed in the typical semi-innocent, drunken-slut hipster style. Messy bun, with the bandana Rukia saw her throw on, floral dress—super short, which showed off her long pale legs—and a large cream cami, with the word _Supreme_ stitched onto the back. She finished the look by cinching her cami with a belt that accented her enormous boobs. Rukia instantly compared herself to the beautifully curvy woman, but forced herself to keep her eyes off the mirror situated on the far wall of the living room.

"Ready to get drunk?" Orihime shouts, fist-pumping the air. Her cheeks are pink with drunkenness.

Rukia smiles. "Drunker, I guess."

"Hells yeah!"

The two girls head out of Rukia's apartment, and start walking down the street. Rukia doesn't even own a car, she'll just hail a taxi or walk or bike. Orihime needs a car, because she travels long-distances to visit her only brother frequently. She wishes that she had a family like that, one that she would drive for hours in order to see. No, Rukia has nobody. Byakuya, her brother, and Rukia rarely talk, and it's always by phone. He's always in the United States on business. He'll send Rukia money every now and then, so she can by food and pay rent. But he's nothing more than an asset to her.

The duo walk down the streets of Karakura, which are packed with late-night partiers. It doesn't take too long for Orihime and Rukia to arrive at Urahara's Bar, their favorite underground hangout. Urahara usually has local bands to play live music, and it's an overall chill place. They head down a secret stairway that leads to the underground bar, were a Jumper named Chad is stationed.

"Hello Rukia," the big man nods to the pink-haired beauty, "Orihime," he nods to the auburn-headed one. Orihime blushes under the huge man's gaze, and says hello to him. She's starting to sober up now, but that's all going to change. Chad lets the two girls into the bar and are immediately pummeled with the strong scent of cigarette smoke. Rukia breathes in deeply. It smells divine.

Orihime and Rukia immediately give in to the craving and reach into their bags to pull out a cigarette. Rukia pulls out her lighter, and lights Orihime's before she lights hers. Rukia puffs on it gently as they stride deeper into the bar. The pair approached Urahara, who was cleaning a shot glass behind a counter, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He sets the shot glass down so he can lift up his hat slightly to get a good look at the girls.

"Hey, Rukia," he winks, "whatcha drinking tonight?"

"Surprise me, Urahara," Rukia rolled her eyes at the man playfully.

"So is the band any good?" Orihime asks, fiddling with her red bandana, and then orders a jello shot. Urahara pulls one out of a refrigerator and hands it to her. It's like a rainbow. All of the colors overlap each other but never mix.

"Of course the band's good, honey," Urahara chuckles. "Why else would I invite them to play?" He hands her a shot of Captain Morgan.

"Oh shut up, Urahara." Rukia rolls her eyes at him again and downs her shot quickly before ordering a second. "So why do they call themselves _Smoking Hipsters_? Isn't that like… really generic?"

"Yeah. But not being generic is so mainstream now. The kids decided to just go with flow and name their band the first thing that came to their mind."

"Clever." Rukia mumbled, and downed another shot of Morgan. Orihime's jello shot was just gracing her lips, when Rukia placed her hand on the girl's wrist to stop her. "Let me take a picture of that, Orihime. It's so pretty."

"You and your Polaroid, Rukia…" Orihime said. "I swear you and that animate object are joined at the hip."

Rukia ignored Orihime's jab and took a picture with her vintage camera. She planned on adding a filter to the photo and uploading it to her blog when she got home.

"Can I have my drink now?" Orihime resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yo." Came a voice that has been enhanced by a microphone. Rukia turns around to see a bright orange-headed man who looked like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account on the elevated stage at the back of the bar. He's wearing a _The Cure_ graphic V-neck, with a gray hoodie and denim cutoff jacket to layer it. Light orange stubble smothers his cheeks and chin, and he's wearing an _Only_ beanie.

Approved.

"We're _Smoking Hipsters_." The man mumbles in a surprisingly sexy, velvety-but-raspy voice. The rest of the band walks out onto the stage. A teal-haired man, with fake blue contacts, is totally grunge. He's wearing a Nirvana tank, and acid wash jeans. He sits himself down by the drums, and takes hold of his drums sticks. Then a very thin, pale man walks out onto the stage, and takes his place behind a piano/synthesizer. He's more relaxed, wearing a white sweater, black skinnys, and beat up black boots. Half of his head is shaved, to reveal white gauges.

Approved.

So far, the band seems alright. Then they started to play, and Rukia is entranced. It started with a soft drumbeat. It slowly accelerated. The piano came in; playing a relaxed melody that matches the man playing it. Then the hot orange-headed man pulls out an acoustic guitar, and started to sing. She's so enraptured with his voice; she couldn't even listen to the lyrics. Rukia watched the way he sang, with his lips more to the side, his voice falling and rising like the waves of the sea. The bar seems to enjoy the music. At least they haven't been booed off yet—like a lot of local bands Rukia has seen.

"Wow, they're pretty good!" Orihime slurs, and reaches for another rainbow jelly shot.

"Uh, yeah… they are." Rukia broke out of her trace long enough to say.

"You ladies seem to like the 'generic' band," Urahara physically air-quotes, "_Smoking Hipsters_ a great deal."

"They're alright," Rukia said.

"No, they're _amazing_." Orihime gushed. "I really like the one playing the piano."

"The super-skinny one with the white gauges?" Rukia asked, pointing to the man discreetly.

"Yeah, that one. He's hot." Orihime said. "Which one do you like? Please don't pick my guy."

Rukia studied the band, just when their song faded away and ended. They received appreciative claps from the crowd, nothing more. The orange-headed one nodded and said 'thank you,' to the crowd.

"I think the one with The Cure shirt is hot." Rukia says approvingly as she eyed the man again. The band starts to play another song.

"Oh, he's totts hot, girl." Urahara mocks the two girls sarcastically while serving a different customer their drink.

"Shut up, Urahara!" Orihime shouts, now a drunken mess—again—from her four jello shots.

Rukia finishes her cigarette and tosses it into one of the many ash trays in the bar. Orihime does the same. Then Rukia orders a shot of peachy vodka for both of them.

"And this next song goes to the pink-haired hipster at the bar." The berry-head vocalist glanced at Rukia from across the room. "Who has been ogling me for the past five minutes."

Rukia blushed a deep maroon as everyone in the bar threw her a glimpse and chuckled. Rukia downed another vodka shot in response. She was starting to feel tipsy. And bold.

"As if!" She shouted. "I bet I could sing better than you."

"Oh really?" The berry-headed lead vocalist challenged. "You wanna come up here and sing with me?"

"Oh my God, Rukia, go!" Orihime giggled. "You need to! This is like, a once-in-a-lifetime… _hiccup_… opportunity!"

"Alright, pretty boy!" Rukia said. "You're on."

The crowd in the bar cheered, and helped Rukia stumble on stage, drink in hand. Rukia approached the vocalist, and cocked her hip to the side. The man smirked, his eyes lighting up under the stage lights.

Bitch mode activated.

"'Common, little bunny," Ichigo handed her the microphone. "Sing your little heart out."

"I don't know any of your songs." Rukia gulped.

"Just sing." He smiled. "We'll follow you."

"Whatever." Rukia rolled her eyes, and started to sing the first thing that came to mind.

_Blue jeans, White shirt_

_Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn_

_It was like James Dean, for sure_

Rukia glanced at the man beside her. He started strumming along on his guitar with her voice. He was familiar with the song. Rukia smiled at that. The pale man, who Orihime liked, started playing along also, adding violins to the song with his synthesizer. She continued to sing.

_You so fresh to death & sick as ca-cancer_

_You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop_

_But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know_

_That love is mean, and love hurts_

The bar crowd is up on their feet, dancing to the music. Orihime cheers Rukia on from across the bar. Urahara smiles at her. The song picks up momentum when she reaches the chorus, a slight slur escaping her lips while she sang.

_I will love you till the end of time_

_I would wait a million years_

_Promise you'll remember that you're mine_

_Baby can you see through the tears?_

_Love you more_

_Than those bitches before_

_Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember_

_I will love you till the end of time_

Rukia lost her grip on the stage, and stumbled forward, totally drunk. The people that were crowding around the front of the stage caught her, and Rukia's drink showered them. Rukia started to laugh, and she felt more carefree than she had in a long time. She looked up at the vocalist, who was smirking at her.

"Well, how was it?" Rukia slurred.

"Not bad, bunny, not bad."

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**A/N: First chapter of my new fanfiction! What do you think? I'm really proud of this first chapter, actually. It's a lot longer than my usual chapters, holy jesus. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**Note: Lana Del Rey is a real grunge-pop artist who is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING. She sings both the **_**Carmen**_** song and the song (called **_**Blue Jeans**_**) that Rukia sings at the bar. I highly recommend that you listen to her entire **_**Born To Die**_** album. Oh, and I'm going to make a site where I will post pictures that inspired Ichigo and Rukia's outfits and hair in this fic. I'll put the link in the next update. **

**-L.E.**


	2. InterFundaStifle

Smoking Hipsters

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Summary: Rukia is an anorexic nineteen year old who works at a vinyl record and bookstore in Karakura Town. When the new local band, Smoking Hipsters, is playing at an underground bar, Rukia decides to go. She sees Ichigo there: a hot, Supreme-wearing, guitar-playing, and smoking twenty year old that looks like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account. Things soon get very smokey, very fast.

Rating: M (for language, underage drinking, sex, drugs, you name it…)

Written By: Liym Enello

Blog: Link: [ smokinghipsters . blogspot . com ] remove brackets and spaces.

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_Rukia lost her grip on the stage, and stumbled forward, totally drunk. The people that were crowding around the front of the stage caught her, and Rukia's drink showered them. Rukia started to laugh, and she felt more carefree than she had in a long time. She looked up at the vocalist, who was smirking at her._

_"Well, how was it?" Rukia slurred._

_"Not bad, bunny, not bad."_

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The berry-headed vocalist looked down at the skinny, pink-haired hipster and smiled. The rest of his band was still playing along to the song, letting the last notes fade out and die in the bar. The girl had stumbled, and fell into the crowd, splashing her drink—what appeared to be some kind of rum, maybe Captain Morgan—all over the mob. They didn't seem to care; they liked her voice, so they liked her. The crowd set the hipster girl back onto her feet, holding her up by her pale arms to make sure she didn't fall.

"So, what's your name?" He smiled down at the girl, who looked up at him. His fingers strummed on his guitar absentmindedly, causing light-hearted and airy notes to penetrate the bar's atmosphere.

"Rukia." The girl slurred, and downed her drink—what was left of it—in one quick drag.

"Huh," the singer said, "I like your voice, Rukia."

"Uh… thanks?" The girl said sarcastically, drunkenly.

He furrowed his orange-hued eyebrows. "Can't take a compliment?"

"No." Rukia said, her face morphing into a scowl. She sets her empty glass on the stage's edge, and puts her hands on her hips. Cocky boy. "I'm not really one for compliments."

He laughed, and adjusted the _Obey_ beanie on his head. "Well I, for one, thrive on compliments, unlike you." Was he really saying that? Rukia rolled her eyes.

The boy spoke again. Arrogant. Cocky. Slightly sexy. "Care to say a few nice words about my music?"

Rukia snorted. "No."

"What, you don't like my band?" The boy gestured to the thin pianist and the grunge-looking drummer. The pianist simply nodded to her, and the teal-headed one just smiled, showing his canines in a menacing way, waving his drumsticks at her. Rukia glared at him. She had a funny feeling about that guy. Maybe it was the way his eyes glinted mischievously when he looked at her.

"Your band is _okay_." Rukia admitted.

"No, you guys are _awesome!_" Orihime screamed loudly from across the bar, her sixth rainbow jelly shot almost slipping out of the tumbler.

"Shush, Inoue!" Rukia shouted back to her, her cheeks flaming—with either embarrassment or drunkenness, she wasn't sure. "It's not nice to lie to people!"

"Friend of yours?" The vocalist with the strange orange hair nodded towards Orihime, who blushed and averted her gray-hued gaze.

"Yeah, what's left of her." Rukia murmured. "She's usually very innocent. So innocent that it's obnoxious. But when she's drunk—" Rukia shook her head condescendingly and chuckled. "She's like a wild animal."

"I see." He smirked, and the notes he was strumming on his guitar quickened their pace, and followed a melody. The two other band members reacted, and started playing their instruments, the collected noises slowly formed a hypnotizing beat that urged the crowd to dance again. The harmony was erotic—dangerously so—the people in the bar ground their bodies against one another in time to the _Smoking Hipsters_' beat. It was intoxicating.

Rukia found herself staring at the lead vocalist of the band. He seemed so relaxed on stage, so in control. But when Rukia looked closer, and harder, she could see a rising tension in his dark amber eyes. They were swirling with of secrets. Rukia wondered what they were. And she wanted to figure the boy out. What was his motive?

"I never got your name." Rukia said, looking up at the boy with hooded eyes.

"Ichigo." The boy glanced down at her, before flicking his gaze back to the crowd. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bar to entertain." He winked at her before he started to sing another song. Ichigo's voice only added to the erotic nature of the song.

Rukia scoffed, annoyed, and turned on her heel. She walked in the opposite direction of the stage. She approached the bar, where Orihime jumped up and gave her a bear hug, practically crushing Rukia with her huge ta-ta's.

"You were amazing, Rukia!" She squealed.

"You think everything's _amazing _when you're drunk, Orihime." Rukia sighed.

"No, she's right," Urahara butted in their conversation. "You should come in the bar and sing for me sometime."

"Only in your dreams, Urahara."

"Hey, I serve your under-aged ass alcohol, don't I?" Urahara smirked, thinking that he got Rukia trapped in a corner. The girl was actually a very good singer, and he wanted her to play in his semi-famous underground bar.

"Only because I saved _your_ ass a while back, Urahara." Rukia raised an eyebrow and smirked, just daring the bartender to challenge her.

"Fine, fine, fine." Urahara waved both Rukia and Orihime away. "Get back to your homes, girls, you're drunk enough as it is."

"But I was going to order another rainbow jello shotttt!" Orihime slurred while she rested her head on the bar counter, her face flushed from all the alcohol she consumed.

"To bed! Both of you. Freeloaders." Urahara said. He would never admit it, but he was a little pissed off that Rukia didn't want to sing at his bar. "And make sure you call a cab, you'll get run over or something if you do otherwise."

"Whatever, Urahara!" The girls said in unison. Then they both looked at each other and laughed full heartedly.

"Let's just go, Orihime." Rukia mumbled, touching Orihime's arm. The pink-haired girl grabbed her bag, and scooted off of the leather bar stool.

"Yeah, yeah," the other girl slurred. Rukia helped her friend slide out of the bar stool, and they both stumbled away. Rukia threw one last glance at Ichigo, who was just finishing his song. He looked up at her, and their eyes connected for the briefest moments. Rukia threw up a sarcastic peace sign towards the band's lead member as she retreated. Ichigo smiled at that, and watched her slender backside exit the bar.

Then they began a new song, and played until the early hours of the morning.

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Rukia and Orihime had ignored Urahara's supposedly 'shitty advice', according to Rukia, by walking back to Rukia's apartment on foot. In their drunken stupor, it took the girls longer to reach Rukia's abode then necessary, but they arrived without any trouble.

Rukia attempted to unlock the door with her huge set of brass keys for a full five minutes before they managed to open it. The two girls staggered into Rukia's apartment, giggling the entire way.

"You're too drunk to drive, Orihime. You can just crash on my couch." Rukia said in-between a laughing fit.

"Okay!" Orihime chirped, and crashed on Rukia's old floral couch without even washing her face. The already-smudged eye shadow on her lids soiled her face even more, seeming to cover almost half of Orihime's face with the dark makeup. Her red bandana slipped down to cover her eyes as she snored. It was hilarious.

Rukia chuckled, and made her way into her bathroom. She sloppily washed her face and brushed her teeth, without even looking in her mirror, like she usually does. She slipped into bed and was dead to the world for a full ten hours.

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Rukia awoke to a solid color of cream. She jumped back. Her spine connected hard with the backboard of her bed. Rukia hastily felt around her face, wondering why she could only see the water-downed color of yellow. Her fingers touched something smooth, and thin. She yanked it off her face, and Rukia could see again. It was a sticky note. That had been stuck on her forehead and blinded her.

_Thanks for the fun night out! That band was H-O-T!_

_Sorry I couldn't stay long—I'm going to go visit Sora for a few days. Bye!_

_P.S.—I fed Kon for you!_

_P.P.S.—What cat doesn't like peanut-butter and avocado beef?_

_~Orihime_

Damn Inoue. Rukia didn't even have any avocadoes. She chuckled and threw the sticky note in a waste bin under her bedside table. Kon jumped up onto her bed and purred hungrily. Rukia ran her hand over his mane absentmindedly. "Poor cat. I promise that I'll never let Inoue torture you with her cooking ever again."

Kon purred with gratitude, and jumped onto Rukia's bedside table, successfully covering her alarm clock with his furry fat ass.

"Get off, you stupid cat." Rukia mumbled sleepily and brushed Kon off of the nightstand.

She looked at the clock—it was eleven-fifty.

"Shit!" Rukia exclaimed, and peeled the quilts off of her bed. She was supposed to work at _Karakura Vinyl & Lit_ in ten minutes. She ran into her shower and washed herself as fast as she could, then put on a cropped American flag t-shirt, her denim jacket, and some dark-wash cutoffs with the tights she wore the night before. She, much to her dismay, didn't have time to put on makeup and rushed out the door, her bag in tow. As she ran down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor of the building, Rukia piled up her long pink hair into a messy bun.

"Great. Fucking fantastic." Rukia said to no one but herself. She unlocked her bike from the bike rack and took off uphill at a dangerous speed, almost running over innocent pedestrians in her path. She arrived at _Karakura Vinyl & Lit_ only three minutes late. There was nobody waiting outside the store, thank god. Rukia breathed a sigh of relief. She unlocked the store with her handy dandy set of brass keys and entered; reveling in the scent of old books and packaged French roast coffee.

Rukia set up the coffee narthex, having four different types of coffee on the burner at once, and two different types of tea. She turned on all the lights, and started to organize the books that had just been shipped in. A few people entered the store, and Rukia greeted them with a soft "Hello" before returning to her work.

Rukia, after about an hour, was officially bored. She drifted back to her usual place—behind the counter, lounging in a chair—after she had emptied the new shipment boxes. Rukia picked up her copy of _It's Kind of A Funny Story_ and started to read where she left off yesterday, only stopping if someone came up to the counter to buy a book or vinyl record.

"Oh, it's you." Came a velvety, yet gruff voice.

Rukia ignored it. Her view was covered by the pages of her book, but she could recognize the voice that tormented her last night. God help her.

"Hey, hipster girl, I have a question."

She rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her novel.

"Rukia."

She scoffed and finally set her book down. "I was at a good part, Ichigo." The girl said, and appraised the young man. He was wearing dark skinnys, and a Jim Morrison t-shirt. The words "The End" were spray painted on it. Ichigo adjusted his _Obey_ beanie on his head. He's also wearing a set of dark red reading glasses, which he pushes up his nose.

"What book are you reading?" He peered over the counter to get a closer look.

"It's Kind of a Funny Story." Rukia said, and rolled her eyes. Ichigo's brows furrowed.

"Why is it a funny story?" He asked, his voice was laced with confusion.

"No, that's the name of the book, brainless." Rukia waved the novel in front of his face mockingly.

"No need to get sassy…" Ichigo smirked, his eyes lighting up with the action as he observed at Rukia. "Is it any good?"

"Look, is there a reason you came here? Because I'm sure that it's not to have a polite conversation with me." Rukia asked, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, actually," Ichigo's eyes roamed over Rukia, making her blush and avert her gaze. His eyes suddenly flick up to meet her violet ones. "I wanted to buy this album."

He set Fair to Midland's _InterFundaStifle_ demo album on the counter. It was a pretty good album, full of original beats, incomprehensible lyrics, and vocals that were unlike any other.

"You like Fair to Midland?" Rukia asked Ichigo. "From what you played last night, they don't sound like your kind of genre."

"My band mate Ulquiorra mentioned them to me. I'm buying it for him." Ichigo said, and pushed the album farther up the counter towards Rukia. "I've got places to be, so…" he trailed off. His eyes trained over to the store's exit. He wanted to leave.

"Fine, fine," Rukia said, and checked the book out for Ichigo. "That's fifteen dollars and twenty-three cents."

Ichigo handed her a twenty, and Rukia gave him his change. Their fingers brushed, and Rukia felt a spark bolt up her arm. She retracted her limb away from Ichigo, surprised by the feeling.

"Have a good day." Ichigo said, out of courtesy, although there was a troubled look in his amber eyes.

"You as well." Rukia said, and gave him a sarcastic peace sign.

Ichigo smirked, and waved goodbye as he left the building.

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Around four o'clock, Rukia's stomach started to growl. Her hand flew to her stomach, and she clawed at the skin there, trying to will the noises to cease. She hadn't eaten anything yet today, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"Shut up, shut up." Rukia whispered to her snarling stomach. A few of the customers in the store gave her a wary look. She just smiled at them, and waved innocently. They looked away uncomfortably, and continued to browse through the store. She must seem like a crazy person.

When Rukia's shift ended at five thirty, she had to wait for the next person to come in and guard the store before she could leave. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Rukia lounged around the store, and drank two cups of pure black coffee, before Neliel waltzed into the store around five-forty five.

"You're late." Rukia appraised Nel. Her sea-green hair was in a high pony tail, and her light green cropped t-shirt showed off her toned torso. She wore short cut offs, tights, and a black leather jacket. A brand new purplish-pink tattoo of a ram adorned her neck.

"I'm sorry, Rukia," Nel seemed genuinely sorry. "Something came up—"

"Don't worry about it, Nel." Rukia set her cup of coffee down and clocked out of the door. "Is that a new tattoo?"

"It is." Nel winked at Rukia. "Do you like it?"

"Ha, yeah." Rukia told her, and appraised the purple ram tattoo, confused. "What's the symbolism?"

"There isn't any," Nel rolled her eyes and laughed. "The guy at the tattoo shop was practically giving away tattoos for free. So of course I had to take advantage."

"Is that why you were late?" Rukia gave her an all-knowing look as she gathered up her things and opened the door. Nel could be so spontaneous sometimes.

"Oh shut up, Rukia." Nel said playfully to her co-worker.

"Have fun working the late shift, Neliel." Rukia mumbled to the green-haired girl as she glided out the front door.

"You know I will!" Nel piped up sarcastically and waved goodbye.

_Fucking Nel, _Rukia thought to herself.

People these days.

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Rukia walked into her apartment, and set her bag down on her floral couch before she sat on it and turned on the television. She surfed aimlessly through the channels, never really finding anything good. Old news. Cooking show. Latino Soap Opera. Rukia sighed. When did her life become so boring?

Her stomach growled again. Rukia's large purple eyes trained over to the kitchen, where her refrigerator lied. She would allow herself one slice of toast. Just a slice. Rukia rose from her place on the couch and walked over to the refrigerator warily. She kept every single item of food in the fridge, even if it didn't need to be cooled. If she had food sitting out on the counter of her kitchen or something, Rukia was afraid that she would be tempted to scarf it down in one bite.

She opened the fridge, and peered inside. The loaf of bread sat on the middle shelf. Eye-level. It taunted her.

_Eat me! Eat me! _

Rukia shut the fridge door, disgusted with herself.

_You're so fat, Rukia. Only fatty's eat. Don't eat. _

Rukia shook her head to no one in particular. But she was so hungry.

She opened the refrigerator without a second though and took three huge bites from the loaf of bread before slamming the door back into place. She ran out of the kitchen and sat on her couch, feeling a shiver rack her body as the food glided down her throat. In her mind, she could see her stomach working on the food, digesting it, and storing it just under her skin in huge lumps of fat.

Rukia wanted to throw up.

She ran into the bathroom and puked into the toilet, spasms racking her whole body, until nothing but bile escaped her throat.

The sad thing was, Rukia didn't even know that she had a problem.

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**A/N: First of all, I'm extremely sorry for not updating either this story or The Ivory Tower as fast as I said I would/could. I was thinking about lying, saying that I had tons of stuff to do, or that my dog died or something, but that isn't the case. I was just lazy and got distracted by stupid things like YouTube videos of cats and the Sims 3. So for that, I'm really sorry. :/**

**And yes, the end of this chapter is really depressing. But I'm trying to write realistically, and in detail, of Rukia's problem. Many girls around the world have to deal with anorexia and bulimia every day. I'm just trying the send a message. Hell, I actually don't know what I'm doing.**

**But review anyway?**

**I promise that this fic is going to get better, lol.**

**-L.E.**


	3. Stairway to Heaven

Smoking Hipsters

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Summary: Rukia is an anorexic nineteen year old who works at a vinyl record and bookstore in Karakura Town. When the new local band, Smoking Hipsters, is playing at an underground bar, Rukia decides to go. She sees Ichigo there: a hot, Supreme-wearing, guitar-playing, and smoking twenty year old that looks like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account. Things soon get very smokey, very fast.

Rating: M (for language, underage drinking, sex, drugs, you name it…)

Written By: Liym Enello

Blog: Link: [ smokinghipsters . blogspot . com ] remove brackets and spaces.

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Rukia tapped her baby blue iPhone against her bony knee. She watched the old, rickety fans up above spew their waves of air, and sighed. It was hot. So hot. It was early in the morning, about eleven o'clock. The temperature was supposed to reach 104 degrees in the afternoon, but it already felt like a boiler room in her apartment.

"Fuck." Rukia leaned her head back against the couch. The fans weren't enough. And her _A/C_ had apparently decided not to work at all today.

Lazy bastard.

Rukia jumped up from the couch, grabbed her bag, and headed out of her apartment without a second thought. She needed to go somewhere, anywhere that wasn't her scorching habitat. She thought of calling Orihime and crashing at her place, but remembered that her best friend was already on her way to visit Soka. Damn it all.

She let her feet carry her wherever they wanted to go. She didn't care. But after a few moments, when Rukia finally lifted up her head, she was facing the menacing stairs leading down to Urahara's underground bar. Rukia rolled her eyes at her impending doom. What else would you do by yourself in the early morning? Day Drink, of course.

Since it wasn't late at night, the bar's bouncer, Chad, wasn't there to greet her. Rukia let herself in, and breathed in the all-too-familiar and comforting smell of old cigarette smoke. She sighed in relief when a wave of conditioned air assaulted her overheated skin.

"Yo, Rukia!" Urahara called from across the bar. He seemed to be fiddling with one of the amps set up on stage. "You're here earlier than usual."

"Shut up." The pink-haired girl replied snarkily. "I need a drink."

"You always do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rukia raised an eyebrow at the middle-aged barista and cocked her hips slightly to the side. Urahara simply waved off her question and approaches the bar, searching for Rukia's favorite drink. Rukia slid into a bar stool, put her elbows up on the glossy finish of the bar, and pouted. This was going to be a shitty day, she knew it already.

Urahara passed Rukia her drink, nonchalantly. He picked up a dirty glass behind the bar and started to polish it with the white cloth he keeps draped over one shoulder. Rukia downed the Morgan & Coke in one gulp, and nodded to Urahara to give her another. Urahara simply rolled his eyes and poured Rukia another drink, with double the contents of the last.

"Oi, Urahara! Are you in here?" Ichigo's voice boomed behind the red stage curtain.

Why does she keep running into this boy? Rukia slammed her head down on the bar with a loud _thunk_, and sighed deeply. Her day is getting shittier… and shittier…

"Yeah, in here, my precious Ichi!" Urahara shouts in the other man's direction.

"Don't call me that, you fu—" Ichigo's insult cut off sharply when his eyes drink in Rukia's distressed and slumped form. "Well, isn't this a lovely surprise."

Oh. My. God.

Rukia groaned, and blindly searched for her drink, her arm flailing around. Urahara chuckled under his breath and slid the glass into her open hand. She tightened her hold on the glass and held it to her lips, under the bar, her face still invisible to the two men. She took a long draught, and then set her drink back up on the bar.

"No, please, don't get up." Ichigo said sarcastically. "I'll just shake my own hand and tell myself hello."

Idiot. Such and idiot. Rukia huffed, her breath etching patterns onto the polished wood finish.

"So, Ichi, what do you need?"

Rukia can sense Ichigo's irritation at the sound of Urahara's nickname for him, and laughs quietly to herself.

"I, um, just came for our amp." Ichigo signaled to the device that Urahara was fiddling with earlier.

"Pretty sure that's mine." Urahara scratched the stubble on his chin, and gave Ichigo a suspicious look. "So you're trying to steal amps now? I know that _Smoking Hipsters_ doesn't make much money, but never in my life would I think that you would have to resort to _stealing_ to get extra cash!"

"Are you fucking with me, old man?" Ichigo seethes, and walked closer to the bar, ready to rip the old goat's throat out.

"No. That's my amp. Isn't it, Rukia?" The middle aged barista questions the young girl.

Rukia finally lifted up her head, and appraised the two. She raised an eyebrow at Ichigo's messy look. Ripped, plain white t-shirt. Muddy jeans. Boots. Un-styled hair. No _Obey_ or _Supreme_ hat in sight. That's strange—he's usually very put-together.

"What happened to you?" Rukia asked. "Rough night?"

"Don't worry about it." Ichigo ended the topic curtly. "Now tell the old man that's my amp!"

"Well, I'm not so sure." Rukia said sarcastically, rubbing her chin to add dramatic effect. "Last time I checked, Urahara had a lot of amps lying around…"

"Bullshit!" Ichigo barked. His eyes cut into Urahara like switchblades, ready to kill.

"Settle down, settle down." Urahara raised his hands above his head. "I surrender! If you and your band perform at my bar tonight, I'll give you the amp—free of charge."

"It's my amp; I should just take it right now, asshole!"

"Hush, hush." Urahara cuts the enraged boy off. "I'll still pay you—half—for your performance."

"Half?" Ichigo exclaimed. "But you hardly paid us at all last time!"

"Enough!" Rukia pounded her now-empty glass down on the bar, startling the two men, and raised her voice. "If Ichigo says the amp is his, then fucking give it to him!"

"But Rukia…" Urahara whined. Rukia reached over the bar and slapped Urahara straight across the face, leaving a dark pink mark in the shape of her thin fingers. Urahara rubbed his wounded cheek and whined. "Ruuu-kiaaa!"

"Shut up, you old bat." Rukia sighed, and gestured to Ichigo. "Well if you're gonna take the amp, then go get it!"

Ichigo stared at her and Urahara, slightly baffled by what just concurred, and then nodded. He jogged over to the stage and unplugged the amp, and hefted it up on one shoulder. "Thanks for sticking up for me," he chuckled slightly to himself. "I owe you."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Rukia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her petite chest.

"I'll buy you a drink sometime." Ichigo winked at her, and left the bar through the back door behind the stage. Rukia sighed, staring at the still-moving curtain Ichigo left in his wake.

"Well, well, well!" Urahara slapped Rukia on the back. "I can feel the sexual tension escalating up to the heavens."

"What are you talking about, old man?"

"Oh _common_," Urahara scoffed at the small girl. "You want him."

"Do not!" Rukia defends herself. "I find him quite annoying and brash, actually."

"Mhm." Urahara murmurs suspiciously. "Whatevs. Just get out of my bar, will you?"

"But I want another drink!" Rukia complained.

"Go catch up with Strawberry, he'll buy you one!" Urahara threw his hands up in the air, spastically. "Now—out!"

Rukia growled menacingly at the bartender, grabbed her brown leather bag, and hopped up on the stage to use the back door. She could hear Urahara greeting some new customers from behind the red curtain, and decided to make a scene by slamming the back door—hard. Rukia smiled when she heard a surprised yelp escape Urahara as she headed out into the street.

"Hey, you—" a man's gruff voice resonated from across the busy street. Rukia squinted her eyes to get a closer look at the scene. Ichigo was in a dark alleyway, clearly visible from her vantage point, but invisible to any car passing on the street. There weren't a lot of people on the sidewalk, to notice the quarrel, either. Rukia furrowed her brows when the humongous man shoved Ichigo, sending him into the alley's muddy brick wall. "Where's my money, berry head?"

"I don't have it," Ichigo said when he regained his breath. Rukia gasped when the other man punched Ichigo square in the jaw, sending him flying back into the alley's wall again. Blood leaked out of his mouth. Ichigo rubbed his jaw, trying to get some feeling back into it.

Okay. Enough of this shit.

Rukia looked both ways, and hurriedly crossed the street. She approached the alleyway, her iPhone in hand in case she had to make a speedy 911 call.

"Hey!" Rukia shouted to Ichigo's attacker. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The large man appraised Rukia, and glared at her. "This isn't your business."

"Maybe not." Rukia gestured to her iPhone. "But it _is_ the police's business."

The man laughed at Rukia, hands on his belly. "Clever girl!" He gave Ichigo one last shove, knocking him down onto the pavement, and walked towards Rukia. She braced herself, ready for an attack from the man, her iPhone clutched tightly in her hand.

"Brave little thing…" The man mused, and then turned on his heel and swaggered down the street towards the slums of Karakura, about three miles away from Rukia's neighborhood. Rukia watched the man until he had disappeared from sight, making sure that he really was leaving for good, then she rushed to Ichigo. He was sitting down, leaning against the wall that he had been shoved into more than a few times.

"You okay?" Rukia kneeled down, and touched his bruised cheek. Ichigo winced, and Rukia retracted her hand immediately. "Sorry."

Ichigo spit out a splotch of blood, and propped his head back against the wall, sighing. "Fucking cocksucker…"

"Tell me about it." The sides of Rukia's mouth curled up a bit. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"Are you serious?"

"Well…"

"Please." Ichigo shrugged her off and slowly rose from his sitting position. He used to collar of his shirt to wipe his mouth, staining it a deep maroon color. "Thanks for your concern, but I'd rather not waste the doctor's time."

Rukia huffed, but didn't argue. Ichigo turned and started to walk away from her. Where the fuck was he going now? Probably to get into more trouble. Rukia was about to holler at him to stop, when he swiveled his head around to look over his shoulder and called out—"You comin', or not?"

"Where?" Rukia asked.

"My place. I owe you a drink."

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Ichigo's apartment was in the Rukongai district, about a fifteen minute walk away from Rukia's abode. Small world. It was small, kind of dirty, but a charming hipster bachelor pad, all the same. Ichigo stalked into his kitchen, with Rukia in tow. He motioned for Rukia to sit at the breakfast bar, and she complied.

"So who was that guy, anyway?" Rukia asked as Ichigo opened a cabinet and retrieved a bottle of vodka. He poured it into two small glasses, and put a dash of lime juice into it. A Kamikaze. Ichigo decided not to answer her question, and handed Rukia her drink. Rukia rolled her eyes at Ichigo's silence, and tasted the Kamikaze. Sour, but delicious. Ichigo took a drought of his, and then turned on the radio situated by the kitchen sink. The station was rock, but Ichigo turned the volume down while he searched for a CD.

"That's a horrible place to put a radio…" Rukia thought out loud.

"It's the only place in the kitchen with an open outlet." Ichigo answered.

"So why don't you put it in the living room?"

Ichigo shook his head, as if there was an obvious reason for having the radio in his kitchen. He took another swig from his drink. Rukia did the same. The silence was slightly awkward, but nothing Rukia couldn't handle.

Ichigo finally found the CD he was looking for—Led Zeppelins' fourth studio album. He shoved it into the radio, and selected a song.

Rukia nodded her approval as _Stairway to Heaven_ started to play. "Interesting choice."

"It's the greatest rock song of all time." Ichigo said, downing his drink in one last gulp.

"Arguably." Rukia finished her drink as well. Ichigo made another two rounds. They quickly became empty glasses.

_There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold_

_And she's buying a stairway to heaven._

_When she gets there she knows, if the stars are all close_

_With a word she can get what she came for._

_Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven_.

"You don't seem like the type who knows much about classic rock." Ichigo teased Rukia as he made a third round. "Therefore, your opinion is invalid."

"Please." Rukia used the same snarky tone as Ichigo did back in the alleyway. "My dad made me listen to classic rock back when I was little. It grew on me."

"I see." Ichigo swallowed his third round, starting to feel tipsy, and bold. "So what do you think is the greatest rock song of all time? And you can't say _Dream On_, or I'm kicking you out of my house."

Rukia mused on the subject for a few moments, sipping on her drink idly, and then spoke up. "_Freebird_."

Ichigo nodded, "Yeah, I guess I can't see that."

Rukia smiled at him smugly, and finished her third drink.

_There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure_

_'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings._

_In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings,_

_Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven._

Silence ensued as the two hipsters enjoyed the song. The tempo started to heighten, as the song's rhythm gained momentum. Rukia slid off the bar stool, starting to feel pretty drunk from her three drinks here, and her couple Morgan & Coke's back at Urahara's bar. She started to swing her hips to the song, her eyes closed, hollow glass in hand with seconded as her dance partner. Ichigo took advantage of Rukia's temporary blindness to stare hungrily at her seductive, rolling hips clad in skin-tight black jeans. His foot started to tap along to the song.

_And as we wind on down the road_

_Our shadows taller than our soul._

_There walks a lady we all know_

_Who shines white light and wants to show_

_How everything still turns to gold._

Ichigo, feeling the effects of the alcohol muddling his brain, rushed over to Rukia and grabbed her hips. Rukia opened her eyes, surprised, but continued to dance. Ichigo grinded against her, groaning softly in his throat at the friction. Rukia put her hands on Ichigo's shoulders for support, leaning back to grind harder into Ichigo.

Well, the hormone-enraged young man had about enough. Ichigo's hand pawed at the gentle curve of Rukia's back as his hand slipped under her lacy shirt, feeling the smooth ivory skin underneath. He pushed her up to meet him, so their bodies were practically one entity, and captured her lips with his.

_And if you listen very hard_

_The tune will come to you at last._

_When all is one and one is all_

_To be a rock and not to roll._

Rukia gasped into his lips, somewhat stunned at the taste of blood in his mouth, but moved her lips just as fervently as he did. He dove his tongue into her waiting cavern, massaging her tongue with his. She fought back eagerly, all the sexual tension built up between them ever since their first song together two nights ago, becoming more and more apparent. She bit hard on his injured lip, causing Ichigo to whimper and moan at the same time. He assaulted her bottom lip with the same attitude, leaving it red and swollen.

Rukia's dark rosy lipstick mingled with Ichigo's lips, creating a mess of maroon between them as they clawed at each other.

_And she's buying a stairway to heaven._

The song stopped, but the next one played automatically, matching the passionate effort of the couple. Ichigo's hands slipped under Rukia's slim thighs, and secured her legs around his waist. He was surprised by how light she was, like lifting a fucking puppy.

_Or bunny_. Ichigo thought to himself and smirked against Rukia's lips. He carried her over to his second-hand couch, pushing her down into the plush material. He ground his hips against hers, and Rukia wound her legs even tighter around him, her heels digging into his back. She slid her fingers through his bright orange hair, tugging at the strands and eliciting a groan from the young man.

"Fuck, Rukia." Ichigo murmured against her mouth, he disconnected from her lips, and attached them to the side of her mouth, working down to her jawline, her neck. He nipped at the heated skin there, feeling the pulse of blood against her skin. He licked his way down, earning a muddled moans from Rukia, and bit down on her collarbone. Rukia squealed, and her heels dug into his back harder. She tugged at his white t-shirt, ripping it into an even more depressed state than it was. Rukia decided to just fuck it, and shredded his shirt off all-together. It was ruined anyway. Her eyes drank in his tanned torso, the cut lines of his abs, the hard muscle rippling in his chest. Dark marks splattered his chest. Her hands automatically went out to touch them, brushing over his bruises with feather light touches. Ichigo shuddered against her fingers. His hands slipped under her shirt, his keen fingertips skimming Rukia's electric blue bra.

She slurred her approval, and Ichigo swiftly unhooked her bra, and tore it off her body, he stroked her perky breasts under her shirt, his mind going numb at the feel of them.

"Take your pants off." Rukia said.

He quickly submitted, kicking his dirty jeans off with fervor.

"Take yours off." He whispered into her ear. Rukia blushed, as he ground his hips against hers roughly.

"Help me." She said.

Ichigo unzipped her jeans, and worked his hand under them in order to rid Rukia of her damned skinny jeans. Disconnecting his lips from hers for a minute moment, he leaned back in order to peel off the black jeans. He threw those down on the floor too, and returned to Rukia.

The Led Zeppelin song faded away, only to reveal another one.

By now, Ichigo's erection was straining against his boxer briefs. Rukia wound her legs around Ichigo's waist again, and felt him harden against her. She trembled, and brought Ichigo's head down close to mouth to bite his neck. Ichigo hissed, and tangled his fingers into her long, pale pink hair, making mess of the silky strands.

"Bedroom?" Ichigo asked her.

He felt her nod against his neck.

Ichigo smiled, and rose from the couch with Rukia still clinging to him like a spider monkey. He practically sprinted down the hall, and entered his room. He threw her down on his black comforter, provoking a surprised yelp from Rukia. He smirked, and slowly crawled over Rukia's body. She leaned back against the dark red pillows, her eyes never breaking contact with him.

"Fuck, Rukia, I want you to sing in my band." Ichigo said huskily as he grabbed hold of Rukia's thin wrists, bringing her arms up above her head, successfully trapping the girl under him.

"Whatever you want." Rukia gasped. Ichigo smirked, obviously feeling very proud of himself. He grasped both of Rukia's wrists in only one hand and used the other to tear her thin, lacy shirt down the middle, revealing her breasts not only to his touch, but his eyes. He drank in the sight almost as greedily as a Kamikaze. He leaned down an plunged his tongue into her mouth again, exploring and tasting, taking and not giving.

The only thing left between them was their underwear.

"Fuck me," Rukia broke away from his mouth to gasp. He groaned with approval, and clawed at her electric blue panties that matched her bra. It accented her ivory skin with such harmony, that Ichigo almost wanted to pause to relish in the sight, but his hardening cock took command of his already-drunken brain, and tore those off just as easily as her shirt. Rukia's legs tugged Ichigo's boxers down. His cock sprang out, making Rukia's eyes widen at his girth. He rolled his hips against hers, the friction and heat between them almost unbearable.

Ichigo let go of Rukia's wrists to brace himself against her. Rukia clawed at his back, her sharp, native-print fingernails digging into his already-abused skin, causing Ichigo to hiss. He responded to her hard treatment by plunging his cock into her in one swift motion—hard. Rukia screamed. Her legs shook, and slipped from Ichigo's torso down onto the bed's black bedspread. She spread them wider, allowing Ichigo better access as he pounded into her, causing the headboard to crash against the wall of his apartment. Ichigo's hand slipped down her collarbone, feeling the bite mark he left there earlier, down her breasts, her toned stomach, reaching her clit.

"Fuck!" Rukia shouted as Ichigo started to rub frantically at the bundle of nerves. She could feel herself rising higher and higher. He continued to pound her, making her scream blasphemies into the oblivion above. Her lips opened in a silent scream as she came, her legs quivering, her toes curling. Ichigo cursed as he rode her throughout her orgasm, then groaned as he followed soon after, jerking into her a few more times before pulling out of her and collapsing at her side.

_And she's buying a stairway to heaven._

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**A/N: Well damn. That's actually the first sex scene I've ever written, so reviews would be appreciated.**

**All songs in this chapter are fantastic, so everyone should listen to them if they're a fan of classic rock.**


	4. Teen Idle

Smoking Hipsters

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Summary: Rukia is an anorexic nineteen year old who works at a vinyl record and bookstore in Karakura Town. When the new local band, Smoking Hipsters, is playing at an underground bar, Rukia decides to go. She sees Ichigo there: a Supreme-wearing, guitar-playing, and smoking hot twenty year old that looks like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account. Things soon get very smokey, very fast.

Rating: **M** (for language, underage drinking, sex, drugs, you name it…)

Written By: Liym Enello

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The becoming warmth radiating off of his body instinctually brought her closer to him with every breath and beating of his eloquent heart. Her fingers absentmindedly trailed across his torso; up and down, in loops and zigzags, causing goose bumps to pledge allegiance to his sun-kissed skin.

She didn't want to open her eyes. Never had she been this relaxed; no, never.

His eyes slowly opened, welcoming the felicity building in his chest at the sight of Rukia bundled up in his dark red sheets. Ichigo hadn't had time before, but now his eyes –with cynosure precision- soaked up the delicious contrast of Rukia's pale skin to the black comforter, the bloodshot sheets, and her strawberry pink hair. He ran his fingers through it, reveling in the soft texture and breathing in slightly to catch the scent. Their limp postures were much different than their rigorous fucking just minutes before, but Ichigo thought that lying next to Rukia, relaxing in the afternoon, just seemed right.

"That was wonderful." Rukia purred, never opening her eyes, pulling the sheets tighter around her and shivering faintly.

"You're cold. Come here," Ichigo pulled her closer to him so that her head was balanced on his chest, her fingers splayed across his shoulder, her other arm working under his neck to second as a pillow. Rukia sighed at the warm sensation and hummed. "I usually don't do this," Rukia responded after a few minutes of silence.

"This?"

"Yeah, this. You know—" She traced his chiseled jaw line with feather-light touches. "_This._"

"Oh." Ichigo said, his typical cocky and arrogant stature was suddenly replaced with a demure and quiet soul in midafternoon.

Rukia's feet grew cold, also. She naturally intertwined her feet with Ichigo's; seeking his radiant warmth that she never knew could exist in just one human being. Their limbs became a great big labyrinthine cortex of skin and heat, and Rukia was satisfied at last.

"You wanna go again?" She asked, although her voice was sleepy and she sounded more than satisfied.

"You're tired," Ichigo claimed, turning on his side and stroking his long fingers through her rosy hair.

"Mmmm." Rukia responded to his treatment. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and buried her head in his neck, breathing deeply.

"Rukia?" Ichigo looked down at her.

She was snoring softly.

Ichigo quietly chuckled to himself, and then disentangled himself from Rukia and tucked the blood red sheets around her body. She hummed, and stretched in her sleep, her breasts pushing against the silky fabric. Ichigo had to turn away from the sight; he didn't want to wake Rukia in order to take her up on her earlier offer. Ichigo padded across the white carpet of his bedroom and into the kitchen, where he appraised the empty shot glasses, thanking the alcohol gods that their powers had allowed that little pink-haired vixen into his bed. He noticed that Led Zeppelin was still playing on his radio, and took out the CD to put it back in its rightful place.

A song buzzed softly on the radio, automatically set to play whenever a CD is out. Ichigo absentmindedly bobbed his head to the indie-pop song as he washed the shot glasses.

_Yeah I wish I'd been a, wish I'd been a teen, teen idle_

_Wish I'd been a prom queen fighting for the title_

_Instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible_

_Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal_

Ichigo scoffed and dried the glasses before setting them up in a cabinet, tucked in between his three bottles of vodka and a container full of Valium.

_The wasted years, the wasted youth_

_The pretty lies, the ugly truth_

_And the day has come where I have died_

_Only to find I've come alive_

In the back of his mind, Ichigo pondered the lyrics. He thought of Rukia, and how thin she was. He could lift her up onto his hips as easily as a rose petal. Could she be that thin, naturally? Or… Ichigo didn't want to know. He really had only just met the girl two days ago. Sure, she had the lost voice of a devilish angel. Sure, he wanted her to play in his band. Sure, they had just fucked earlier, followed by gentle touches and caresses. But that doesn't mean he knows her. Not at all.

…_I wanna drink until I ache_

_I wanna make a big mistake_

_I want blood, guts and angel cake_

_I'm gonna puke it anyway_

A realization suddenly pushed its way into Ichigo's conscious. Is Rukia thin because she's bulimic? Anorexic? Could she even be both? He ran a worried hand through his orange locks. Why is he beating himself up over this? If it were any other girl, would he care?

All these thoughts simply made Ichigo more confused. He shut the water off in his sink, and walked back into his bedroom. Rukia was still sleeping soundly, but she had moved. She slept on her side now, her pale backside to him, the sheets pulled down dangerously low. Her glowing pink hair fell in tendrils over her bony shoulder and down her back like a waterfall in slow motion. He slowly approached Rukia, climbing up onto the bed and gently running his hand down her shoulder, her arm.

She was very thin, that was definite. Her collarbones stuck out prominently, and he could count all of her ribs, one by one.

Then her stomach growled.

Ichigo was startled by the sound, retracting his hand as if he'd been stung. The growling in her belly dragged on, causing Rukia to shift in her sleep, uneasy and hungry.

"Enough of this shit," Ichigo whispered under his breath. He quickly grabbed a shirt and jacket, threw them on, and headed out of his shit-hole apartment. He walked down the street like a man on a mission, his hands in his pockets, his eyes straight ahead, until he arrived at a small, family-owned bakery across the street.

"Hello," a woman behind an assemblage of bread and cakes said to him as he urgently marched inside.

"I'll take, um…" Ichigo evaluated the baked goods. "Three chocolate cupcakes, a loaf of French bread, and uh," he paused "like, five strawberry bagels."

"Is that all?" the cheeky salesperson asked. Ichigo nodded and the woman delicately placed all of the items into a large bag. Ichigo paid the woman before he thanked her and left the bakery - her bidding him a good day - while he let the door crash closed.

"I fucking hope so." Ichigo answers, although he knows that the bakery woman can't hear him. He rushed back to his apartment, faster than he's ever walked, it seemed. He quickly unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside, stopping in his tracks at the sight of Rukia lounging on his living room couch.

"Oh, there you are." Rukia said as he recovered himself and walked in. She was dressed in one of his shirts usually reserved for pajamas. She drowned in it—it was like a tent on her.

"Hey," Ichigo says nonchalantly, glad that his voice didn't give away his anxiety. "I brought lunch."

"Oh, um—" she stammered. "You did?"

"Yeah," He took a strawberry bagel out of the bag. "Want one?"

"No, no, I'm okay." Rukia pleaded. Then her stomach growled again, giving her away. Ichigo gave her a questioning-but-knowing look and tread into the kitchen. He slopped some cream cheese onto the bagel and then slid it on a plate towards Rukia. She stared at the bagel as if it were arsenic.

"I know you're hungry," he smirked deviously. "I mean, you _must_ have used up all your energy when we fu—"

"Alright, I'll eat it." Rukia glared at him and slid into a bar stool, her eyes unblinking from the strawberry bagel. "_Bastard,_" she said under her breath. She timidly took a bite of the bagel, and sighed. Rukia hadn't actually eaten in over a day. She was weak, and she needed food, but her mind was so set on being thin that she just pushed the physical pain away, almost every day.

"Do you like it?" Ichigo asked as he spread cream cheese on his own bagel, taking a huge bite, chewing noisily.

"It's actually really, really good." Rukia mumbled and took another bite, humming at the explosion of flavor in her mouth.

"Well it should be, it cost enough." Ichigo smiled as Rukia rolled her eyes.

"Shut up."

They ate in silence, content with listening to the radio, just enjoying each other's company. After a few songs had played, the silence had started to get awkward. Ichigo pawed the back of his neck as he set his plate down in the sink and put the remaining goods from the bakery in his small pantry.

"So," Rukia spoke. "I don't expect you to think that we're, like, an item now or something."

"Hmm?" He ran a hand through his hair.

"Just because we slept together doesn't mean I expect you to hang out with me all day, I mean. It's not like we're a couple."

"Oh," Ichigo said, amused and slightly baffled that she would say something like that. Usually, whatever girl he brought home would beg to hang on his arm all day. So dependent. "Well, I'd actually like you to stay, if that's okay with you…"

Rukia's thin black eyebrows rose. "I guess that's okay. You know, if it's okay with you."

"Yeah, of course." He told her, his mouth curling up into a bewitched smirk. "We could practice."

"Practice what?" Rukia asked, completely confused.

"For our show tonight at Urahara's, duh," Ichigo smiled. "The old goat invited _Smoking Hipsters _to play again. You're part of the band now, remember?"

Rukia was silent for a small moment, thinking back to when she had ever said such a thing, multiple scenarios running through her mind from earlier that day… oh.

Oh, shit.

"I did say yes, didn't I?"

"Yep. Multiple times." Ichigo gave her a boyish, hooded look. His comment caused Rukia to blush from the tips of her hair to the bottom of her feet. "So," Ichigo continued. "About that offer…"

Rukia smiled, and slid off the barstool, licking cream cheese off her fingers. Ichigo licked his bottom lip and eyed her mouth with a newfound hunger. She gave him a seductive look, through her lashes, her violet eyes slightly darker with lust. "What offer?" so she was playing dumb…

He wasn't going to have any of that. He scooped her up and carried her off into his bedroom without a second thought. Rukia squealed and started to kick him, but it was no use. He shut the door tightly behind him, and they were invisible to the world for hours.

* * *

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* * *

"Are you fucking with me?" Grimmjow snarled. "Or are you really that stupid?"

"S'cuse me?" Ichigo asked, tilting his head to the side and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "This is good for the band."

"Good for the band or good for _you_?" The teal-haired man barred his teeth slightly, looking almost catlike in appearance. His spiky blue hair gave him an "insane in the membrane" look, exactly what he was.

"Us. All of us." Ichigo explained. He was tired of having to explain every little detail with his band mate. "Our sound is getting boring; I can tell during rehearsals. We need someone to freshen things up. You know, to harmonize or even go solo with the vocals. I think this girl is what we need right now."

"Whatever," Grimmjow scoffed. He squeezed the two drumsticks in his hand tightly before turning on his heel and storming out of Urahara's bar, throwing his drumsticks in the process. They landed on the wooden floor angrily making quite a lot of noise for something so small. Urahara, who was standing across the bar, like always, flinched.

"Ouch." He said. "That can't be good for business."

"Shut up, you old goat." Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Grimmjow has never been one to walk out on money. He'll come back… he always does."

"Well, he better. You guys have a show tonight."

"I'm aware."

"Just sayin'." Urahara shrugged and continued to wipe down the bar, readying it for the multiple guests that would show up for _Smoking Hipsters'_ second appearance. "And, speaking of the little devil, where is Rukia?"

Ichigo shrugged, deciding to play it cool. "She went back to her place after we had a drink, I think."

Urahara raised his eyebrows at the young man skeptically. "Mhm," he started up a blender, making some sort of mixed drink. "I'm sure you guys just had a friendly couple shots of Morgan and then merrily went your separate ways."

Ichigo shook his head, "Vodka, actually." Then he turned the other way in order to break eye-contact with the old man—and so he couldn't see his rising blush. "Pervert."

"Deal with it." Urahara brushed him off, pouring the blended drink into multiple cups before putting them into a portable freezer under the bar. "Why else do you think I'm in this business? The ladies are free."

That comment drove Ichigo right out of the bar. He swore to never go to Urahara's during the day, when no one was around. Ever. Again. Comments like that would be the death of him. He was just making his way across the street, heading back to his apartment, when a voice called his name. "Ichigo."

The orange-headed man looked up automatically to the sound of his voice. His eyes wandered up, and up, and up… finally meeting the steely eyes of the man who called for him.

"Let's take a walk." The man said, grabbing Ichigo by the shirt collar and shoving him off the street and into a nearby ally, the same one from the earlier morning. He pushed Ichigo up against a wall still marked with his blood.

"I don't have your money, Yammy." Ichigo said, annoyed at how the odds were against him at this moment. His jaw still hurt, for god's sake.

"You don't think I fuckin' know that?" The large man seethed. "You and your shit little boy band doesn't make enough to cover your debt."

"Look, I haven't even borrowed money from you guys in years. You never bothered me about my debt then. Why now?"

"You have something we want." The man snarled. Ichigo tried to get up off the wall, but the man slammed his hand down on Ichigo's chest, keeping him in place.

Ichigo scoffed. "What could I possibly have that you want?"

Yammy push harder on Ichigo's chest, making it hard for him to breathe. Ichigo struggled against him. "You and I are one of the last Espada members that are still alive."

"No shit," Ichigo spat, "The others killed most of us."

"Exactly. And that was for a reason." Yammy snarled. "Now, I know that Aizen trusted you more than me. You have to know where it is—"

"What's going on here?" A patrol officer from a building across the street appraised the two men. He was the typical slacker-cop kind of guy. Thick mustache still dusted with doughnut crumbs. Ichigo wondered if he got them from the bakery he was at previously. He had a cheesy haircut and a mole growing on the side of his neck.

Usually, this man would've been child's play for Yammy. But the fact that he was wearing a badge made the man let go of Ichigo and back away with his hands up. "Nothing's going on, officer. Nothing at all."

"There better be." The officer scolded, and trained his eyes on Ichigo. "You alright, young man?"

Ichigo could've said: "_No, I'm being threatened by the most notorious gang in Karakura_." But he didn't. Instead, the auburn-headed man replied: "I'm fine."

The officer nodded, and started to turn on his heel. "Keep it civil, boys." He walked away.

"That officer is the only thing keeping me from beating answers out of your ass right now." Yammy spat in his direction. "I'd watch your back." Then he sauntered away, back to the slums of Karakura where he usually resided.

Ichigo glared at the man's retreating back, pulling his jacket tighter around him. A sudden chill seemed to sweep over Karakura, strange for this time of year. He huffed, and made his way back to his apartment. He was supposed to meet up with Rukia there in order to practice some of their songs. At first, Ichigo was apprehensive that she wouldn't be able to memorize all the lyrics in one night, but Rukia proved to have a very sharp memory. She has already learned half the songs, and is in Ichigo's apartment reviewing the remaining ones right now.

Ichigo decided that he would put Yammy and the Espadas out of his mind. Tonight, he was singing with Rukia, and that's all he cared about.

* * *

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* * *

**A/N: That's the fourth chapter, folks! And the conflict is just beginning.**

**Song: Teen Idle, by Marina and the Diamonds**

**Please review, it means the world to an author, especially on a newer story.**

**Don't forget about The Ivory Tower, either. ;)**

**Have a good day, my lovelies.**

**-Liym**


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